


By A Thread

by tazlwyrm



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bromance, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Noctis Lucis Caelum, Hurt/Comfort, Mouth-to-Mouth, Near Death Experiences, Poisoning, respiratory arrest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26533684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazlwyrm/pseuds/tazlwyrm
Summary: Noctis takes a Killer Bee sting to the shoulder and gets poisoned. It becomes a race against time to save him as it's only then that the boys realize that they're out of antidotes.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia, Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 12
Kudos: 115





	By A Thread

**Author's Note:**

> **I still have yet to play this game, so this is based on other fanfictions I've read and the playthrough I watched almost three years ago now. Apologies for any weirdness that doesn't line up with how things function in-game.**

Prompto was still processing what had happened. He and the others had gone for what was supposed to have been a fairly cut-and-dried hunt. That was until they found themselves being accosted by a sudden swarm of Killer Bees on the way back. Before Prompto knew it, Noctis had taken a stinger to the shoulder and it was only then did they all realize that they were out of antidotes.

At first, Noctis had tried to wave off their concern, even arguing a little before allowing Gladio to carry him back to the car to slow the spread of the venom. But any sort of brave face he had been putting on faded only minutes away from the road when the effects began to hit him. By the time they reached the Regalia, Prompto was terrified to find Noctis limp on Gladio’s back; pale, feverish, and shivering.

That was how he found himself in the backseat with his best friend’s head in his lap as he did his best to tend to him. A tense air of anxiety had fallen over the car’s occupants, the silence which at any other time would feel calming and companionable weighing heavily on them all. The horrid sound of Noctis’ labored breathing wasn’t helping matters—like he was trying to breathe through a straw full of molasses. It was only accompanied by Prompto’s occasional, quiet words of comfort as he gently wiped the excessive sweat from the prince’s face and neck.

Ignis was laser-focused on the road, gripping the steering wheel tight enough that Prompto could swear he could hear it creaking. Gladio kept stealing backward glances from the passenger seat. Each time he would, his face seemed to pinch more with what anyone else might interpret as anger, but what his friends knew better as intense concern.

Prompto carded his fingers through Noctis damp hair, trying to keep the tremble out of his lips as he looked into pain-glazed eyes. The last thing Noctis needed was for him to break down. Which was getting harder not to do as he noticed the prince’s lips turning a worrying shade of blue.

“Iggy, we need to hurry,” Prompto urged, only just managing to pull his voice back from a panic-induced higher pitch. “He can barely breathe!”

“I’m going as fast as safely possible!” Ignis snapped. “It won’t do Noct any good for me to get us into an accident.”

Prompto knew the heat was born out of fear rather than any anger with him, but he couldn’t help but shrink a little at Ignis’ tone. The adviser took a deep breath. His eyes briefly flicked to the rear-view mirror and back to the road.

“Is he still awake?” he asked, slightly more calmly.

“Y-yeah,” Prompto said. “In a lot of pain though.”

“No doubt,” Gladio said. He turned to look into the backseat. “Do what you have to do to keep him awake if it looks like he’s gonna pass out, okay?”

Prompto’s affirmative was cut off by Noctis taking in a loud, painful-sounding attempt at a larger gulp of air. He nearly choked, and followed it with a strained whimper.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he wheezed. “It hur—.”

His voice gave out, priority given to sucking in pitiful amounts of air that just weren’t enough.

“Hey, Noct. Look at me,” Gladio said, clearing his throat against what sounded like sudden tightness. “Just shut up and breathe.”

The hardness of his eyes softened minutely as he reached between the seats to take Noctis’ hand. In any other circumstance, Prompto might have thought about snapping a photo to preserve such a rarity. But not when the life of their friend was on the line.

“We’re gonna get you help,” Gladio assured. “Work with us and stay alive.”

Noctis squeezed his Shield’s fingers in response, his gaze slowly shifting from Gladio and back to Prompto. It was hard to see him so beaten down and weak. His face was a near-constant grimace of pain as he fought to simply do as asked and _breathe_. Prompto wanted nothing more than to be suddenly blessed with the power to take it all away. But all he could do was make him as comfortable as possible until they could actually help him.

He gently massaged Noctis’ scalp, swallowing hard. “You’re gonna be okay.”

Prompto wanted to believe it. He _had_ to. There was no way that he was going to accept his best friend being killed by a giant, stupid bug. Yet here they were, facing that possibility with the passing of each agonizing moment. Any second and Prompto could find himself cradling his friend’s corpse. Once again, he was fighting his tears.

 _I can’t lose you_ , he thought, resisting the urge to gather Noctis in his arms and hold him so tight that he would be forced to stay.

In what felt like hours, but was probably only another ten minutes, Ignis was pulling the Regalia into a rest area. Even in that short amount of time, Noctis had gone from pale to ashen and his tremors were nearing convulsions. Prompto was terrified that he might start seizing.

Before the car had even stopped moving, Gladio was throwing open the door and bolting off to buy what they needed. Prompto thought that Ignis might follow him, but instead, the adviser made his way into the backseat to kneel on the floor at Noctis’ side (probably where he had wanted to be since they had torn onto the road).

Carefully, Ignis pulled the prince’s battered clothing aside to inspect his injury. They could have healed it earlier, but antidotes worked better when applied directly to the wound that was the source of the poisoning. It looked raw and painful, surrounded in dark, vein-looking marks that crawled out over his skin from around the puncture. The only upside was that it was barely bleeding; the gauze they had temporarily patched it up with only had a small blot of blood on the underside. Noctis winced as his heaving chest pulled at it. His hand unconsciously raised to bat Ignis’ away from his aching wound, but his friend merely caught his wrist and laid his arm back down over his stomach.

Ignis let his hand linger as he looked worriedly into Noctis’ face.

“I know you’re in pain, Noct. And I’m sorry,” he said. “Try to stay calm. It’s almost over.”

Noctis’ breath hitched and then wheezed, his glassy eyes drooping dangerously before he snapped them back open. Sweat was making strands of his hair cling to his face. Prompto brushed them back with shaking fingers, feeling Noctis burning under his touch. A quiet, pinched noise left the prince on an exhale, the space between the next inhale far too long for comfort.

Prompto’s heart lodged itself in his throat.

“Hold on, man,” he begged, gently tapping his hand against the prince’s head. “Don’t you do this to us.”

Despite his pleas, Noctis’ attempts at breathing continued to truly falter and slow down. He looked exhausted, his strength almost visibly bleeding from him. One look at him spoke of the haze he had entered. It was hard to tell if he could even hear his friends anymore. His body which had been tensed with agony for the past forty or so minutes grew slack and heavy in Prompto’s hold, his head lolling to the side towards Ignis.

“ _No_. No, no, no. You can’t sleep!” Prompto cried urgently. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Noctis would never wake up again if he did—even if they did get an antidote into him in time. They were so close; he couldn’t give up _now_.

A frantic look settled into Ignis’ features. “Noct, listen to me. You need to fight this. We are _not_ losing you this way!”

With a sympathetic grimace and a preemptive apology, he reached over and dug his thumb into the inflamed-looking flesh beside Noctis’ wound. Prompto suppressed a gasp at the sight of Ignis intentionally inflicting pain on their friend just to keep him awake. He understood, but it still felt wrong. All of this was so wrong.

Noctis barely reacted, only flinching slightly without making a sound. In a single, gut-wrenching moment, his eyes slid closed.

What felt like it wanted to be a scream bubbled up from Prompto’s throat, but it left him as a harsh sob. He cupped Noctis’ face in his hand, choking on a last-ditch effort to call his name. His head snapped up at the sound of someone sprinting towards them—a disheveled-looking Gladio clutching an antidote in his fist.

A relieved smile came to Prompto’s face, but it didn’t last long. He noticed the distinct lack of the awful, haggard noises they had been listening to for this entire waking nightmare. A glance downward showed Noctis’ hauntingly still chest.

“He’s not breathing,” Prompto said, shocked into a quiet, trembling mutter. The tears he had been holding back fell freely as his voice rose. “Guys, he’s not breathing!”

He didn’t care about the futility of repeating himself. Noctis was fading away under his hands and nothing seemed to be going fast enough in the direction of saving him.

Gladio rounded the car seconds later, skidding to a stop at their side with a terrified look in his eyes. He said nothing, wasting no time in handing the antidote off to Ignis who swiftly applied it to Noctis’ wound.

The effects were instantaneous, the inflammation and marks fading away. The bleeding grew worse and was quickly remedied by a potion that erased the injury entirely. It should have been cause for relief, but Noctis didn’t start breathing again. There were a few beats of silence as that reality sunk in.

Gladio reached into the car and lightly gripped Noctis’ shoulder.

“Noct?” he called, shaking him once and gaining nothing from it. He tried again. “Come on. You’re stronger than this! _Breathe_!”

His reprimand and single-worded, sharp order fell more into desperation than he probably intended. Like he was begging rather than giving Noctis his usual push of tough love. The words hardly came out as weak but had drawn strength from somewhere else. Somewhere more fretful and devastated.

“He _can’t—,_ ” Prompto said, his thoughts whirling. “W-what do we do?”

As usual, Ignis was about three steps ahead of everyone. The moment that it was clear that Noctis wasn’t going to revive on his own, he was jolting into action. He brought a surprisingly steady hand to the prince’s neck, pressing his fingers to the pulse point. No one said a word, waiting in agony to know what he found—or _didn’t_ find. Ignis’ lips parted slightly on a relieved sigh.

“He still has a pulse,” he said.

A second later, he was all but tearing off his glasses. He then reached out to shoo Prompto’s hand away so that he could tilt Noctis’ head back, pinch his nose, and start breathing for him. The prince’s chest rose and fell with the two rescue breaths he was given. At least that meant his airways were clear, but his body just wouldn’t get the memo to breathe by itself again.

Ignis continued silently. He brought his ear to Noctis’ mouth and checked his pulse between every few sets of breaths, only to have to begin the cycle again as there was no response to his efforts. Gladio hovered over them, casting his shadow over the harrowing scene. He kept occasionally speaking nearly unintelligibly, but it sounded a lot like encouragements for their unconscious friend interspersed with pleas for him to pull through.

Prompto was barely containing hysteria. He held onto Noctis’ hand, trying desperately to convey that he was there for him and that they all needed him to be okay. Gladio squeezed his shoulder as he suppressed his sobs so as not to distract Ignis in any way. There was no way he would forgive himself if that life-saving rhythm was interrupted because of him.

He began mentally preparing for what felt like the inevitability that Noctis’ heart would stop. Because he knew that a heartbeat without breathing didn’t last long. They would have to move him out of the car and onto the ground to start compressions. Nausea churned in Prompto’s stomach at the idea. Even worse was the looming possibility that it wouldn’t work; they could bruise Noctis horribly, break and crack his ribs in a bid to get his heart going, and it might not even matter.

The prince remained still, not regaining his colour and only moving with the breaths being forced into him. Already looking like it was far too late. His hand was cooling where it was held tightly in Prompto’s. The fever that had raged through him not minutes ago was giving way to an encroaching cold as his pulse grew weaker. _Dying_ , Prompto’s brain supplied. _Noct’s going to die._

But as soon as that hopeless thought surfaced, it was dashed away just as quickly when the most beautiful thing happened. Ignis was pulling away from another set when Noctis took a breath. It led to coughing, but the cloud of grief that had been hanging over and threatening to smother them all still began to dissipate. They all froze for a moment, watching in apparent disbelief as their preparedness for the worst thankfully became all for naught. Noctis was back with them.

“Noct!” Prompto cried, a few more tears sliding down his cheeks. He quickly maneuvered Noctis onto his side, still keeping him in his lap as he refused to let him go.

Gladio physically slumped in relief and it looked like he might actually faint. But he simply turned and took an unstable step away from the car.

“Fuckin’ _shit_ , Noct,” he breathed, keeping his back to the others as he ran a hand through his hair. He briefly scrubbed at his eyes before returning and opening the car door so that he could crouch by Noctis’ head.

Ignis reached for his glasses which he had practically tossed to the floor in his haste to save the prince. With an expression still awash with concern, he brushed back some of Noctis’ hair from where it had fallen over his face so that they could see him better. Some degree of his poison-induced sickness still remained, but the cyan tinge on his lips was gone and his complexion was already starting to look healthier. A far cry from the previous deathly paleness.

The commotion had drawn the attention of a few morbidly curious onlookers who had been largely ignored through its duration. They filtered away as things resolved, murmuring to each other and leaving the four of them in peace as Noctis’ coughing died down. Prompto couldn’t muster more than a moment’s annoyance at their life-or-death situation having a passive audience. He was too caught up in the elation of his best friend being alive and well—or not so much, but breathing was a good start, to say the least.

Noctis’ eyes opened and he looked quite dazed.

“Guys...?” he croaked weakly, spurring another round of coughing.

Ignis shushed him and ran his thumb gently over his temple. When he spoke, his voice came out more low and gentle than it probably had in a long time. Like someone chasing away the fearful thoughts of one woken from a nightmare.

“We’re here,” he said, his eyes bright behind his spectacles. “Don’t speak just yet.”

“We’ve gotcha, bud,” Prompto chimed in with a wobbling voice. He lightly patted Noctis’ side. “Just chill for a sec. You’re okay. You made it.”

Gladio blew out a slow breath. “Damn…you really had us going there, princess.”

“Yes. I believe I speak for us all when I say I could do without a repeat performance,” Ignis said. He paused, waiting for Noctis to settle once more. “Now…are you all right, Noct? Just a nod or shake of the head, please.”

Noctis nodded, wincing slightly. A headache was the likely culprit.

Ignis sighed. “I’m assuming that ‘just tired’ is all you’re willing to admit to for now?”

Another nod.

“But you’re not hiding anything really bad, right?” Prompto asked. “It’s not hard to breathe? Your throat’s not gonna close up? Does your chest hurt?”

His flurry of anxious questions was met with Noctis shaking his head for each, accompanied by a few mildly irritated twitches in his face. If he didn’t know the truth, he would be assuming that they were just dealing with ‘woken up early on a weekend’ Noct. It came as a comfort; a sign of normality.

“Okay, but we’re gonna need to actually get a proper look at you in a bit. Not gonna let you sleep until then,” Gladio said, causing a furrow in the prince’s brow. His voice lowered, residual fear coming through in his tone. “You stopped breathing. That’s not the kinda shit you just let slide. You get that, right?”

Noctis expression smoothed out, guilt shimmering in his eyes as he processed exactly what had happened. His mouth opened like he was going to say something but he closed it and nodded instead. He raised a trembling hand and Prompto quickly caught on, squeezing it in his own. Ignis and Gladio responded similarly. It was the closest they were going to get to a ‘Sorry I scared you guys’ until Noctis had to strength to speak again. They took it happily.

“All right,” Gladio said, taking his hand off the top of the pile. “I think I need to sleep for the next twelve hours to make up for the years I just lost off my life.”

Prompto huffed. “Totally.”

“In any case, we do have to move the car,” Ignis said, seeming to notice for the first time that he had just parked the Regalia haphazardly in the way of any other vehicles that might come along. “And I see no reason against staying here. His Highness would benefit from a proper bed.”

Noctis gave an appreciative hum of agreement, earning a light hair-ruffle from his Shield. Ignis and Gladio left his side to return to their seats—albeit with reluctance despite the very short distance they had to drive.

The car rumbled to life and Prompto turned his attention to Noctis who rolled back over, quite content to stay laying in his lap. The prince looked up at him, seeming to study his tear-tracked face with a look of worry in his tired eyes; worry for _Prompto’s well-being_ that overshadowed his own discomfort.

It made his heart ache all the more. To think of losing one of the few people he had in his life that looked at him like he mattered. Through the pain, his chest warmed.

He sniffed lightly. “Noct?”

“Mhm?”

“Just…I love you, man.” Prompto felt his ears turn pink. “I don’t think I say that enough.”

He received a small smile in response, half-teasing and half-sincere. A mix of ‘I know that, you dork’ and ‘I love you too’. It would probably be a good week before Prompto felt that he could stop sticking much closer to Noctis’ side, so he hoped that his friend was prepared to experience the full extent of just how much he meant it. Oh, he would ‘know’ all right.

Noctis insisted on standing up on his own once the car was properly parked. Of course, he didn’t do so without all of his friends hovering to varying degrees. He managed to get upright with little difficulty but then proceeded to waver in his steps. Prompto slid up next to him, ducked under his arm, and supported him the rest of the way. Not a whisper of a complaint was heard.

That night in the motel, Prompto found himself staying up late just to listen to Noctis’ deep, even breaths as the prince soundly slept beside him. Each one felt like a gift. A simple thing that he would never take for granted ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I haven't posted anything for a while because I've been dedicating most of my writing time to my book, but this scenario beamed itself into my brain and I just _had_ to get it down. I hope you enjoyed me kicking the shit out of Noct yet again! But, hey, when other people aren't writing much hurt/comfort content of your favourite whumpee, then you've just got to take matters into your own hands sometimes.
> 
> [Tumblr](https://tazlwyrm.tumblr.com/)


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